


Not What We Thought

by WhatHaveWeDone



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Adventure, Aftermath of Torture, Electrocution, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 16:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14835473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatHaveWeDone/pseuds/WhatHaveWeDone
Summary: Scott and John are in trouble. Big Trouble. This is a bit dark but hopefully not too graphic, then a bit angsty and fluffy. Check the tags before reading.





	1. Chapter 1

"You promised Scott. Remember your promise." John's voice was rough and cracking. "You promised. You promised."

John had been repeating that for the last few minutes. Scott had tried to talk to him, but he didn't think John was with it enough to hear, even if they had let him. John's eyes were closed, head hanging. Scott wished that his brother was still unconscious and oblivious to what was coming. Scott would give anything to stop what was about to happen. Well almost anything. Anything apart from what they were asking.

Scott watched as the hooded man moved closer and saw his brother shrink away. How quickly he had learnt to fear the man's heavy step. There had been six visits from the brute, each lasting longer than the last. Six to John anyway. There had been one to Scott first.

He had woken up facing the window. Hands were tied behind his back, feet to the chair leg. He tried to move it but it must have been bolted to the floor. He was stripped of his suit, but still had the t-shirt, socks and shorts on that he wore underneath scant protection though that was against the cold from the damp room.

"You will tell me all about your machine. How it works and what it can do." The confident voice had come from behind him and crackled as it was projected over a loud speaker.

"I won't" Scott had said, defiant.

"Then this is a taste of what the future holds."

A hooded man stepped from behind into Scott's line of sight. He was tall and broad and wore only black. If there were anymore detail than that Scott missed it as the man had turned on the cattle prod he held in his hand and pushed it firmly against Scott's chest.

Scott felt fire bloom from where metal met man. Lightning sped down his arms, down his legs, into his chest. He was screaming - he must be screaming - though his ears were too full of the roar of blood to hear properly. He was fighting against his bonds, trying to get free, to tear that horrific implement away from him. But he was tied tight. All he could do was scream and thrash and yell. The prod was removed, but it took far too long for the pain to go – it continued to send waves though his nerves. It was long minutes before he managed to silence himself and bring back some form of dignity.

"Consider" said the voice and the hooded man left the room.

Scott considered. He considered the last conversation he had had with John. He hoped he was still alive, he wished deeply for it. Standing outside the stricken Thunderbird One, hands in the air as armed men approached them they had managed to exchange a few quick words.

"What ever the ask, whatever they want, we give them nothing."

"If they ask if the sky is blue – nothing."

"If they ask if the sea is wet – nothing."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Promise."

Then a blast of energy hit them and Scott had woken up here.

Scott wondered if this was the only pain in his future – would they come up with something else? How long would he last before he passed out? Would... would he die here? These were dark thoughts but he never considered the alternative. He would never give them what they wanted. He would never put his organisation – no, his family – at the mercy of whoever this was. And he had promised John in those moments before they were taken, and Scott Tracy never broke a promise.

Scott knew that they had given him this time – this respite -to fear for his future, to despair and imagine the horrors that were to come, but they didn't know him at all. Scott didn't hold fear for himself, he never had. He feared enough for the others that there was never enough left over for himself.

Scott considered that he was ready for the hooded man to return, he knew what he was facing, what they wanted and had steeled himself to weather it.

He hadn't been ready, however, for the mirror in front of him to change to a window, like in a police interview room, and to see John sat the other side also tied to a chair. John had also been stripped of his suit, just in shorts as he couldn't usually fit a shirt under his more form fitting uniform.

"Have you reconsidered? Will you tell me what I want to know?" The voice crackled from behind him.

"No." It was quiet, barely a whisper. Scott didn't think that he was answering the question, more expressing his disbelief. He hadn't thought of this.

The hooded man was standing behind his brother, weapon in hand. It looked like John was trying to talk to the man, but Scott couldn't hear a thing.

"Very well. You know what is coming."

The hooded man stepped forward and forced the cattle prod against his brothers exposed back.

Six times Scott had had to watch his brother be tortured. He had watched as his skin became a patchwork of burns – arms and chest and leg and probably his back as well though he couldn't see it. He watched as John thrashed and squirmed as the current flowed though him. He heard his brothers screams and cries and how he begged for it to stop.

After the first ….. session they had left the audio on. He had tried to talk to John then but the audio only seemed to go one way so Scott could still only listen. It was a few minutes before John could ready himself to speak, before he could lift his head.

"They're... not asking me anything. And that is probably a two way mirror... which means that you are probably on the other side Scott... Which means _this_ is for you. To get you to talk? Yes, must be." John was thinking out loud and with little information and a few pain filled minutes had formed the right conclusion. His brother really was smart.

"But I know you won't." John was continuing. "Not matter what... happens in this room. No matter what they make you watch. Because I know you will never give the others up, I know you never break a promise, I know..."

The audio had been cut off. He could still see John speaking, eyes fixed on the glass in front of him, only a little off from looking Scott directly in the eye. But there was no sound and Scott was not a lipreader. Scott guessed that John wasn't saying what they expected. He wasn't begging for mercy, he wasn't pleading for release or for Scott to give them what they wanted. Instead he was bolstering Scott: reminding him of the stakes and letting him know that he was okay with the cost. That didn't mean that Scott was okay with it, but there was no other option.

"Please don't" Scott begged each time the hooded man walked back in the room.

"Will you answer our questions?" Said the speaker behind him.

"You promised Scott" John would rasp when they allowed the sound of his brother's voice to reach him.

"No." Scott still defied them.

"Then let's begin again."

They not only turned the audio off after each visit but returned the panel to a mirror too. Now Scott could not see or hear his brother apart from when he was screaming. Scott would scream along with him, calling their faceless tormentors any name he could think off. He pulled and thrashed as John did, trying to get himself free but only won bleeding wrists and ankles.

When he only had his own face staring back at him he was desperate to see John again – to know he was alive and that they hadn't taken him somewhere else. And when he was allowed to look into John's room he felt first relief and then wished that he had never wished for this. He felt the one burn he had from the 'demonstration' he was given ache and shuddered at the thought of being covered with them as John was. He wished horrible deaths on everyone involved. He offered money. But he wouldn't give them what they wanted. International Rescue technology in the wrong hands would be disastrous for the world and dangerous for everyone he had ever loved. Giving that information up was not a promise he would allow himself to break.

As the sixth session ended he began to wonder how long John would last. He had passed out before the man had finished the last couple of times, going limp yet still twitching from the electrical current being applied. Were they doing permanent damage? Were they going to give him a heart attack? That they still wouldn't let him see John afterwards gave Scott some hope – he must still be defying their expectations and refusing to beg his brother to make it stop. But all John's brave words were going to waste. John's head was hanging lower at each arrival of the hooded man and his screams getting hoarser. Scott may have just given up one brother for the others and the guilt was all consuming. It was like...

A crash interrupted Scott's thoughts – the crash of the door bouncing back against the wall having been forcefully opened. A figure stood there – tall, solid, real in blue and green. Not his imagination.

"Virgil?"

"I've found Scott" Virgil said into his comms, as he strode forward to cut Scott free.

"Are you hurt? Look at me? Are you hurt?" Virgil asked, calm and commanding but with a layer of worry as well. Scott was having a bit of trouble accepting the reality of the man in front of him and felt dazed.

His wrists and ankles were bleeding from where he had thrown himself against them, numb from cold and he was very, very thirsty, but that wasn't what Virgil meant.

"No... no I'm not. John..." He managed to stammer, not able to complete the sentence. Luckily he didn't need to – Virgil understood.

"Where is he?"

"The other side of that." Scott pointed at the mirror in front of him.

Virgil didn't storm out into the corridor as expected, instead he went straight for the glass, direct as always. He set a tool against the glass and it began to vibrate until the whole window shattered, revealing John still bound to the chair, head lolling to one side.

Virgil paused for just a moment before stepping through the hole he had just made, taking in the scene before him.

"Stay there" Virgil ordered, but Scott didn't heed him or the glass covering the floor. Scott saw Virgil roll his eyes as the both approached - nothing would stop him getting to his brother.

"John? Wake up. Virgil's here." He said softly. Reaching his side Scott knelt down so he was at eye level and tried to get John to look at him.

"V'gl?" John's voice was thin, but it was there.

"Yeah that's right bro" Virgil said also gently, completely at odds with the harsh grim room they were in. Virgil cut John's ropes as he had with Scott's and it was only Scott's presence that stopped John falling off the chair: instead he was supported by Scott and leant his head on his shoulder.

"Virgil's going to take us home."

"Promise?" John's trembling voice matched his trembling body – he still hadn't opened his eyes and his brow was creased with pain.

"Promise."

"Can you walk?" Virgil asked Scott.

"Sure."

"Good. I'll take John." Virgil paused. "Are those electrical burns?"

Scott nodded and Virgil's face hardened as he spoke again into his comms.

"I've got John. He needs help getting out, Scott is under his own power. Time for that diversion Kayo" A pause.

"We've got five minutes. You sure you're not hurt Scott?" Said Virgil, moving round so he was kneeling next to Scott in front of John.

"Nothing that needs looking at now I promise." A few cuts on the soles of his feet from the broken glass did not count.

"Ok then. Drink this." Virgil said somewhat dubiously holding out a canteen. "It's just water. John, can you open your eyes for me?" Virgil turned his attention away, and so did Scott even as he was gulping back the fresh cold water.

John weakly lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes. They were red rimmed and bloodshot, and he was clearly having some trouble focusing.

"Good, that's good John. Have you been hit on the head at all? Bleeding anywhere?" Virgil was asking the standard first aid questions, but this really wasn't a standard situation. Why were they not getting out of here? Oh, that's right, they were waiting for a diversion.

John had shaken his head, and was able to follow Virgil's finger as he moved it slowly in front of his face. "Now I'm just going to give you a little something to help with the pain, ok?"

Virgil took out a needle and syringe, injecting the contents into John's arm. "Time to go" he said standing up. Virgil pulled one of John's arms around his shoulder, grabbed his waist and pulled him to his feet. "Scott, follow me closely."

Scott did as he was told, only a few paces behind his brothers. It was easy to keep up as it was the injured John who set the pace, despite the help he was getting. Scott followed as Virgil led confidently down corridor after corridor, took turn after turn. This place was a maze and much bigger than he had imagined. He would never have been able to get John out alone. He was allowing himself the fantasy that he would have even got that far.

After about ten minutes Virgil stopped, leaning John against a wall.

"I just need to check the coast is clear, will you to be ok?"

"Sure we will" was Scott's reply, moving closer to John who was breathing heavily, head back against the wall, but looking more awake and at least able to stand.

Virgil gave him a look that showed his doubt. "I'll be two minutes. Don't move." And then he jogged off round the next corner.

"Scott, we need to talk." John croaked out.

"What?"

"About what happened back there."

"Let's not get into this right now." Scott said, trying to keep any eye out for anyone who was not Virgil.

"No, it has to be now. While I can still think clearly." John's eyes _were_ clearer, and he looked a lot more _himself_ than he had for a while. A lot more together. "Whatever Virgil gave me was strong so I don't think it's going to last long. And this has to be said now, before it gets a hold on you. What happened back there" John paused and shuddered at the memory "you promised. We agreed it was for the best."

"That's not what I thought I was promising." Scott admitted.

"It doesn't matter. Do you know I was glad every time they came back? It meant that you hadn't said anything. It meant that they were still safe."

Scott looked at his brother both amazed and confused. Amazed that someone could be so strong, could accept his fate like that. That John could stand there, cold, burnt, in pain and say it was for the best. More he was confused that John just didn't get it.

"I was meant to keep you safe as well."

John gave a tired smile. "You never stop being the big brother do you? I'm serious though Scott. You made the right choice."

John's gaze was steady, though Scott was having a hard time meeting it. He appreciated the words, but Scott thought it would be a long time before he would be able to shake away the guilt of what happened in that chair.

They didn't have a chance to continue the conversation as Virgil rushed back around the corner, a quick glance taking in both his brothers, checking them for further injury. As if they could get hurt just standing in the corridor.

"It's all clear, but we're going to have to run. Can you do that Scott?"

"Yeah, I can run, run where?"

"To Thunderbird Two, Alan and Gordon are waiting. And as for you.." He said turning to John.

"I feel better, but not up to running I'm afraid."

"I know, which is why I'm sorry about this."

In one quick movement Virgil hoisted John over his shoulder into a fireman's carry, despite the curses. Scott couldn't understand why John hated being upside down on Earth so much when he did it often enough in space. Something to do with bloodflow maybe.

"Ready? The let's go." Virgil turned and sprinted round the corner. Scott followed close behind, ignoring the pain from the slivers of glass still in his feet. He was more than ready to go home.


	2. Chapter 2

ohn woke with a start, sitting up. Could you really call it waking though? Surely you couldn't wake up when you were never properly asleep. He didn't think he slept any more. Not long enough to dream anyway, and though he knew that wasn't healthy he couldn't stop. Each night he would 'wake' himself about half an hour after closing his eyes. Then he would stare in to the dark for a bit before once again settling down. What he was doing wasn't so much sleeping as having repeated catnaps.

 

He had slept well that first day back from... that place. Partly exhaustion, partly... shock. Mostly whatever Virgil had pumped him full of as soon as they had got back to Thunderbird 2. That was all a bit hazy, and he knew that was from being lugged around upside down. He had woken up in his own bed, bandages covering most of his body to try and protect his burns.

 

He had slept once, properly, since then. He wasn't going to repeat that. It was hard enough to get away from those memories during the day but at least there was the possibility of a distraction. At night, trapped in a dream he had no such luck. For the others night was a time for dreams, but for John it was a time for being alone.

 

He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, feeling a slight chill that had nothing to do with the island's tropical climate and everything to do with his own cold thoughts amongst the silence. That room had been silent... No. He wouldn't think about that. He gave a small shudder and bought his knees up to his chest. He was fine, no permanent injuries. He had said that, hadn't he? When they had strapped him into Thunderbird 2 he had tried to tell them that he was ok, he was fine, that they didn't need to fuss so much. He had lied.

 

No, it wasn't quite that simple. He thought he had been fine. Feeling safe at long last, feeling the pain seeping away and sleep beckoning he had felt remarkably good. So good he had managed to fool himself into think that was all there was to it. That a bit of pain relief, a mug of soup and a few bandages would be all it took to heal from that room.

 

He had been fine when Virgil had half carried - okay maybe completely carried him – out of that place, but he had to admit to himself he was no longer fine. He felt on edge all the time. He was paranoid that there was someone behind him, even now sitting with his back to the wall. His appetite was practically non existent. And those damn mosquito traps...

 

John gave a sigh, the only sound in the silent night. He had thought he was harder than this, stronger. It hadn't taken very much to expose his weakness and the others had noticed: Gordon had been avoiding him, Alan had barely let him get out of sight, Virgil didn't trust him and Scott wouldn't meet his eyes. It had only taken eight hours – from when Thunderbird One had touched down to being safely stowed in Thunderbird Two – for it all to go so wrong. No, that wasn't fair.

 

There was nothing wrong with the others: it was all him. He felt like he was barely holding it together. Somedays his resolve was so thin you could see day light through it. He didn't know what to do with himself; he couldn't concentrate but if he didn't keep himself busy his mind was swamped with awful memories.

 

John could hear something from further down the corridor, rustling of fabric and a few grunts – it seemed that someone else was also having a restless night. Maybe someone else was having dreams as troubling as John's. Maybe they should stop sleeping too. They weren't awake though.

 

Absently John picked at the bandages still around his wrist, fraying the edges slightly. He didn't hurt any more, not exactly. He felt achey all the time and his burns itched but that was all. He was covered with bandages and salves but hadn't needed pain relief for a few days now. He thought he might have some interesting scars, and have to make sure his wrists were covered at all times from where he had fought against the restraints... No, don't think about that.

 

John could still hear the murmurs of disturbed sleep – if he could hear it from here it must be bad. He should really go do something about that. With a sigh he gathered the blanket closer round his shoulders and carefully ventured out of his room to investigate.

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise to find that the noise was coming from Scott's room – he had his own reasons to fear the darkness after all. He softly opened the door and indeed saw Scott thrashing abut under his bedsheets, occasionally giving an inarticulate yell. He should wake him up, free him from whatever he was facing.

 

But John didn't want to be alone with Scott – he felt Scott was waiting for an opportunity when the others weren't around for some sort of heart to heart and John wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ever going to be ready for that. John had spent the last week trying to dodge everyone's repeated offers of talking – repeating his experiences to them was not high on his agenda at all. It wasn't even under any other business.

 

So he almost closed the door and walked away. He almost pretended that he didn't know that his brother was in pain. But walking away from those who needed help was not what they did, and he couldn't fight against that instinct. Besides, he knew that he would want to be woken if he was facing night time demons.

 

It was still with some reluctance that John slipped silently into the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott was yelling, screaming in to the mirror in front of him. No, he was John and John was screaming. He couldn't move, not even to open his mouth. No, he was yelling for John, he could see his own face twisted in pain in the mirror. No, he was John, yelling for Scott. He was Scott and…..he was in bed and his brother was standing over him.

 

John! He thought. John needed him, was calling him, but where was he? He was here?

 

"Scott, calm down ok, don't wake the whole house." John murmured. Dreams retreated and reality returned.

 

"John are you ok?" Scott asked, the fear that he had felt in the dream still infecting him.

 

"I'm fine Scott, you're the one thrashing about." John was almost whispering, maybe trying not to draw attention in the dead silence of the rest of the house – the others would all still be asleep.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Sorry." Scott drew a steadying breath and tried to get himself together.

 

There was an awkward few moments as they both tried to check each other over without making eye contact.

 

"Not sleeping well huh?" Scott was surprised that John asked that : it was a bit too close to the conversation that they had been avoiding.

 

"Not so much." Scott noted the bags under John's eyes "What about you?"

 

"I get a few hours. I've never been the deep sleeper like Alan. I'm fine."

 

Scott looked at his little brother – it wasn't just the dark circles but John was looking paler than usual, lighter, lacking substance. John was usually an emotional and intellectual rock, but now he felt... absent.

 

"It wasn't what I expected, that call, none of it." Scott said. He didn't know where that came from. It was true, but not what he wanted to say. Not what he had been avoiding saying.

 

"I should hope not" John snorted, almost amused. "Next time you intend to be shot down and captured let me know so I can stay out of it."

 

"How long are you going to keep saying you're fine for?" Scott asked without any of his usual tact. Without the distraction of younger brothers or International Rescue business this was the first time that the two had been alone since John had left the infirmary. And now John -or fate - had allowed him the opportunity Scott wasn't going to waste it. There were things tearing him up inside, things he needed to say even though he knew they would do damage once they were out in the open. He'd been too afraid till now to say and that cowardice was keeping his head down and buried in work. He couldn't stand it any more.

 

John didn't respond, he just stared at his hands. Scott couldn't notice how the bandages around his wrist were frayed at the edges – he must have been pulling on them again.

 

"Don't think I haven't noticed how little you sleep. How you stay at the edges, making sure there is no-one behind you. The others are worried too."

 

"The others? Worried? No, they're screwed up. I've screwed them up." Johns' tone was harsh and defensive, so unlike his normal calm self that Scott was now even more worried.

 

"What? That's not...Hang on John, don't – talk to me." John had stood and was turning away to leave the room, face impassive. John was going to slip away like a fish off a hook and Scott was suddenly angry that he wouldn't be able to put down his burden.

 

"You are failing to communicate to a satisfactory standard." A new voice: young sounding, female sounding, clinical sounding. EOS.

 

"EOS, we're fine" John seemed as surprised at the interruption as he was, but not too surprised to respond.

 

"There's that word again John." Scott couldn't help himself. John glared at him while trying to find something to focus on to address EOS, but her voice just hung in the air.

 

"Data concludes that communication skills are key to both family and workplace dynamics, and those that communicate well have a 4.5% higher score in life satisfaction surveys."

 

"You mean 'it's good to talk'? Yeah, but we are communicating just … fine." John said with a look at Scott "We were doing it just now."

 

"That was not to a satisfactory standard. There has been inadequate communication for the last six days. It is affecting all key members of International Rescue. This will be resolved now."

 

Then the world went wild.

 

* * *

"I knew it was a mistake to let her integrate into the islands' systems!"

 

"What?"

 

"I said knew it was a mistake to let her integrate into the islands' systems!"

 

"What"

 

"I said..."

 

Scott gave up yelling, knowing that he couldn't be heard above the emergency siren that was blaring from every speaker in the house. It was coming from the alert speakers, the weather warning systems, even from the radios and music players. He thought it might be coming from his phone as well. He had hands clasped tightly to his ears as he staggered after John who had run from the room, not that it made any difference at all.

 

He found himself in the kitchen, John looked like he was yelling at the microwave, arms crossed and face stern. He was doing a pantomime of a parent telling off a child as he Virgil, Gordon and Alan – who had soon assembled having been very rudely awakened – looked on.

 

The ear splitting alarms shut off and John gave a begrudging "Thanks EOS". Scott's ears were still ringing though and everyone looked a bit dazed and disorientated at the sudden silence.

 

"What the hell is going on? What's the emergency?" Gordon demanded anxiously and shouting slightly.

 

"Satisfactory levels of communication between the Tracy brothers will now commence."

 

Virgil, Gordon and Alan looked confused and if he was honest Scott was not much less so. He was quite willing to admit – to himself at least – that he'd been distancing himself slightly, but was it really that bad? And what would an artificial Intelligence consider 'satisfactory communication' anyway?

 

As one the brothers looked at John, hoping that he would interpret for them. It was second nature for them to look to John for explanations, him usually being the font of all knowledge.

 

"I don't get it – what's the problem." Alan asked yawning.

 

"EOS thinks we all need to have a chat." John was unimpressed.

 

"She woke us at... 2.27 so we could chat?" Virgil was incredulous.

 

"Apparently so." John was very unimpressed.

 

"Well, as much as I love you guys I'm really not at my best when the hurricane alarm has gone off right by my ear, so I'm going back to bed." Gordon said stretching and yawning, already looking like he could fall back asleep on the spot.

 

"No. You will remain. Satisfactory levels of communication will commence. This is required as part of John's recovery."

 

That woke them up a bit and put all eyes on John. Scott could see that it made John uncomfortable, as he threw himself down on one of the sofas and looked at the floor.

 

"It would also be beneficial for Scott."

 

And that drew eyes back to him. Thanks EOS! Never had Scott felt under such intense scrutiny as right then – three pairs of brotherly eyes studying him, three brows furrowed in concern. And three pairs of hands on hips, stance clearly allowing for no nonsense. It would have been funny how similar they looked if it wasn't so awkward.

 

Did he look like that as well when he was confronting a stubborn brother? Probably, he admitted to himself.

 

Virgil broke the atmosphere. "What does she mean John? Scott? You know we are here if you need to talk."

 

That generated a snort from John.

 

"What?" Virgil demanded, slightly defensive at John's derision.

 

"Isn't it a bit cliché? 'We're here if you need to talk' and all that?"

 

Scott could see that John's comment had riled Gordon as he responded. "Clichés are only clichés because they're often true."

 

"Doesn't make it any less trite though." Was John's response.

 

Scott could feel this was going to go badly wrong – they were all short of sleep, stressed and worried. Add in hungry and it would be the perfect combination to result in another Storm Tracey: the way they referred to the last time they had a five way slanging match. The fallout lasted for days and only ended when Kayo physically dragged them into the same room and Brains locked the door until they apologised to each other and hugged it out. With both Brains and Kayo = and even Grandma- off island for at least the next week he was going to have to step in.

 

He had been looking for an opportunity to unburden himself after all.

 

"EOS is right though, we can't shut ourselves in about this, it's just not healthy." Scott said, trying to radiate a calm that he wasn't entirely feeling – he was working on only a few hours sleep himself. "You need to talk about this to someone John."

 

"Everyone wants me to talk, but no-ones talking back!" Johns' outburst took Scott by surprise. As did the anger in his brothers voice. And the hurt. He still hadn't looked up but Scott could see enough of his face to see his eyes scrunched up and knew the expression he had on his face. It was the face he had when John had eaten the last cookie. The same as he had looked when he broke the news that Dad had gone missing. It was the face of guilt.

 

Scott found himself moving quickly to kneel before John, and put one hand on his knee. He swallowed at the realisation of how close this came to mirroring that place and hoped John hadn't noticed as well.

 

Scott softened his voice to the one he had found very early in his life. He thought of it as his 'coaxing brothers voice.' It worked when they were younger and he was trying to get one into bed, or out of bed, or to finish their dinner, or to be treated for an injury. He hoped it would work now.

 

"Tell us what you need John" he asked.

 

"I need... I need." John visibly gathered himself.

 

"I need someone to turn that mosquito trap off." He fired out.

 

Scott looked at the trap hanging faintly humming by the window. There had been a lot of advance in technology in the last hundred years: hologram video calls were as common as telegrams once were and there were people colonising the stars. One thing that hadn't changed was mosquito traps. Though not the disease carriers they once were it still paid to protect yourself from their bites and being a tropical island they had a fair few around, so every room had a mosquito trap. In the day it emitted a pheromone just strong enough to attract any bugs in the room, and at night it had a light as well. Then when the mossie got close enough it was zapped and …. oh. Scott could see it now. How could he not have noticed it before? The way John's glance darted around but not directly at the trap. A mosquito took that moment as it's opportunity to hammer home the point - buzzing into the room. Scott watched it as it was drawn to the trap and zapped into oblivion. It's death caused John to give a small wince. It's death by electrocution.

 

Virgil wasted no time turning the trap off as he was closest, and he saw a flicker cross his face. Scott felt an echo of the thought that must be in each of their heads – how could they not have noticed that those things might be a problem? Were they really that insensitive?

 

It seemed to work, as Scott felt some tension leave John, tension that Scott had barely noticed until it was gone. It seemed to have burst as dam as well, as words started to flow from John.

 

"I need you to be my brothers. Virgil is checking my blood pressure every two seconds like I'm at deaths door, Alan won't leave me alone like I can't be trusted, Gordon can't stand to be around me and you Scott, you can't look me in the eye. I don't know if I'm a disappointment or what but..."

 

Scott couldn't let that thought go past without an objection. "You are not a disappointment!" He exclaimed perhaps a little more forcefully than was needed. "Don't ever think that. I'm so proud to have you as my brother. Why would you even think that?"

John didn't respond to that. The others moved closer, sat beside their brother: close but not too close. Trying to be present but not overcrowding. Virgil and Gordon were either side, Alan next to Scott. They were all almost touching - just a hair of space between them.

 

Virgil started. "I don't think you're at deaths door John: I just worry that ….." he took a deep breath. "I worry that they hurt you and if I've missed something... "

 

Gordon was quick to follow with his own self-aware confession. "I know I can be rambunctious so I'm trying to get out of the way so you don't have to cope with me as well as everything else."

 

"I just want to make sure you are still here, I was so scared when you were both gone." Alan sounded so small and young – Scott wished that he could do something to reassure him, but for once Alan was not Scott's priority.

 

It was his turn. Time to set down his burden. To share it and lessen it. Or maybe it would simply multiply. "No, it's my fault. I could have stopped it but I didn't. So I feel very, very guilty. But the reason I've been avoiding everyone is that, truth be told, I would do it again."

 

Scott could feel the disbelief radiating from the others, knew they would be wondering what on earth would possess him to say he would put his brother through that again. He didn't know if he could ever make them understand.

 

"You promised. You would keep that promise again?" John's voice was soft but it carried through the still night.

 

"I would."

 

Once again John surprised him, showing a deep strength usually hidden behind a quick quip or professional detachment. "Good. We did it for them." He gestured with his head towards the other three. "And I'd do it again." John looked into Scott's eyes and spoke as if it were just the two of them in the room. "Don't feel guilty for promising to protect them.. For promising to protect us. I'm glad you would do it again, it means that there is always going to be someone looking out for them."

 

It had worked: sharing his burden of guilt and the burden of guilt yet to come had freed it from his shoulders. He hoped it would not yet settle elsewhere but he couldn't help be glad it was gone.

 

Virgil, Gordon and Alan were looking between the two of them. Maybe they were struggling to keep up with what was passing between the space monitor and the jet pilot. Or maybe he should give them more credit – maybe they understood the heights and depths they would go to for each other.

 

John wasn't finished and now included the others in a steady stare. "Because of that I need you to be the people you are. I need you to go back to being my brothers, the ones who kept me going. If you carry on acting like you don't believe in me, like I might break apart at any second I may just do. I'm cracked but not shattered. Not yet." His voice grew stronger as he spoke, we each word getting close to being the brother he loved and trusted.

 

Scott got it. He understood how sometimes it was the comfort of others just being themselves could ground you and centre you and make you whole again. Gordon seemed to get it too, as he reassured John "We can do it, don't worry. We'll keep you together. Like superglue."

 

"Like superglue?" That elicited a smile from John. A real genuine smile. The first Scott had seen on John's face for a while now. It eased something that was wound tight within Scott's soul as he contemplated the faint possibility that one day John much indeed be fine.

 

"Eww no," He went on "I don't want you oozing anywhere near me." John gave it some serious thought. "You need to be ….more like duct tape."

 

Virgil gave a bark of laughter at that and Scott found himself sharing a grin with Alan, surely all remembering the time they had duct-taped John to the wall for eating the last piece of pie.

 

"Maybe we can all do a little better – for each others sake." Virgil suggested, and Scott could see a wave of resolve and agreement spread through the others and through himself. If just could …... survive what he did for his family, then they could manage a bit of conversation.

 

"Satisfactory communication has resumed. You may return to bed."

 

So that's what an artificial intelligence called satisfactory. An early hours almost-fight and heart-felt confessions. Good to know. However now they had 'permission' none of them seemed to want to comply. Scott certainly didn't want to disturb the careful balance they had achieved or break apart the bridges they had begun build.

 

Alan was rolling his eyes at EOS's instruction, and Gordon had that stubborn look on his face when he had spotted a rule he wanted to break.

 

"Well, I'm awake now, and it will be light in a few hours, anyone fancy staying up?" He said.

 

"I don't think I'm going to sleep any more tonight either." John sighed.

 

"Then what about breakfast?" Alan asked eagerly.

 

"Nah, I've got a better idea" Gordon was now grinning. That special grin that he only wore when he had an typically Gordon idea "it's a lovely night, clear skies, full moon, there's no one else here. Lets have a dip in the pool – a skinny-dip in the pool!"

 

"Gordon!" Scott groaned "We're not kids any more." With four brothers they had their fair share of water fights, dunkings and impromptu swims when none of them had bathing shorts, so it wouldn't have been the first time. He thought they were all beyond that though.

 

"Ah Scott, you gone all prudish on us?" Gordon ribbed.

 

"No! But we could just go change you know."

 

"But then it wouldn't be a skinny-dip! And just doing a normal swim at this time of night is weird. What do you think John, you would certainly see more of me!"

 

That earned a laugh from them all.

 

"Let's do it!" John looked as surprised as Scott was at his impulsive decision, but pleased at the glee that spread over Gordon's face as he fist pumped. "I think we all need a little fun" He shrugged in Scott's direction.

 

"I hate to be the spoil sport but is it ok for you two to go in the water?" Alan voiced his concern and Scott was reminded of the bandages at his and John's wrists and ankles, John's burns, the glass cuts on his own feet.

 

"The chlorine will sting like a bitch" Virgil declared, "and they'll need to be redressed, but shouldn't do any harm." If there was anyone that would veto this he thought it would be Virgil, but even he was making an effort to relax a little.

 

"Then it looks like we're doing this." Scott gave in against the tide.

 

"Race you!" Yelled Alan, but Gordon was already on his way.

 

Scott reached out a hand and drew John to his feet as the youngest two scampered away to the pool, Virgil following slower.

 

"You sure about this?" Scott keeping his voice low, but giving John the opportunity to change his mind.

 

"Yeah I'm sure. I'll be... "

 

"You say fine one more time." Scott warned, more serious than his light tone suggested.

 

John, perceptive as ever, caught Scott's mood, so softly replied. "I need to be busy, I need to be doing things. My concentration isn't great so maybe things like swimming is the way to go."

 

"And I need to know that you are going to be ok." Scott admitted.

 

"Yeah, I know." John gave him an appraising look, the way he assessed a data feed or mission report. Damn it was good to see that part of John was still in there, that he hadn't lost him to a cold chair and vicious treatment.

 

"I think we both need to take a sleeping tablet tonight." John offered. Sleep was not the whole answer, but it sure was a stumbling block for John right now, and this was his way of showing that he was willing to try if Scott was.

 

Of course he was. "Agreed. Now lets get down to the pool before the others decide we are backing out and give us a forfeit."

 

Scott guided the complying John outside. No doubt there would be some bumps in the road along the way but Scott felt lighter knowing they were on the right path.

 

He could hear splashes and yells coming from the pool which meant that Gordon at least had started without them. This night had not been what he had expected at all.

 

And first thing in the morning he was getting rid of the rest of the mosquito traps.


End file.
